


at three-fifty degrees for twelve minutes

by Anonymous



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Bjorkisms, Bon Appetit Test Kitchen AU, Fluff, Light Pining, M/M, background Jake/Charlie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 18:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20801114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Despite the frustrating process and oncoming promise of winter in the air, Matt feels warm in a way only Anders makes him. With a flip of his floppy, straw-colored hair, Anders grabs his bottle of hot sauce and makes Matt promise to save him a cake later."or, the one where Matt and Anders are professional chefs and Matt's got it bad





	at three-fifty degrees for twelve minutes

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know the BA test kitchen is in NYC, but I moved it to Boston because, yknow, Bruins.  
Also, if you haven't watch the Bon Appetit Youtube channel, you should definitely watch their It's Alive and Gourmet Makes series.
> 
> Much thanks to our Bjorkologist-in-residence for helping me out, you're the best, broski

When Matt walks into the kitchen in the morning, he can tell immediately that it’s going to be a long day. It’s still quiet, it seems like most people have yet to trickle in. The counters are clean and wiped down and the wall to floor windows across the room from the stoves look over the Charles River, greyish in the cloudy morning light. Somehow the pre-work still holds more promise of trouble than the noise of the kitchen ever could.

He knows he’s supposed to be making Zebra Cakes for the Youtube channel today, since the editors had suggested it a while back when making a recipe list for the December issue. Matt sighs at the thought of the December issue, only 3 months away and starts checking emails between greeting folks and waiting for the camera and production people to get in. 

A little after nine, the shoot is just about set up and Matt’s station is covered in thin, white boxes of Zebra Cakes and Torey flashes him a thumbs up from behind the main camera. 

“Hey guys, welcome back to gourmet makes, today I’ll be making Zebra Cakes from scratch,” Matt begins his intro the same as he does for every other video. In the flip screen next to Torey’s camera, Matt can see his careful, camera-ready smile and the white counters and the boxes of snack cakes and in the back of the kitchen, a blurry shape with his arms in the air, Matt can see Anders.

“Okay, so let’s start by reading the ingredients for these,” he looks away from the shape of Anders and starts going line by line on the tiny black text on the box. It’s about to be a very long day.

Between whipping egg whites and measuring out flour, Matt casts a look over at Jake, who has temporarily set down his camera to take a break by Charlie’s station. He really wishes he could have what Jake and Charlie have. Not  _ exactly _ what they have, he likes to think he’s a few brain cells up on their collection, but their easy banter and casual intimacy? It’d be worth giving up any amount of brain cells for. Charlie’s laughter resounds across the kitchen. Matt is pretty sure Jake has just asked him to make another ridiculous concoction with whipped cream and Oreos and who knows what. They’re probably just going to end up squirting whipped cream at each other again, which isn’t even a euphemism. Matt remembers cleaning up the remains of one of Jake’s ridiculous requests that Charlie couldn’t say no to. He’s pretty sure everyone remembers. Especially Chara, who didn’t need another reason to distrust aerosolized dairy. 

Jake and Charlie are laughing again and Matt looks over to see Charlie miming hitting Jake with one of his beloved cast-iron skillets. If Matt weren’t so preoccupied with trimming the golden sponge cakes into hexagons, he might rush over and stop them before they make another trip to the ER. Luckily, Anders swoops in and Matt’s heart rate slows in relief only to have it ratchet up again at the sight of  _ those arms _ in  _ that shirt _ . Specifically, that one grey shirt that stops just below the elbow with the waffled texture that really makes Anders’s shoulders stand out.  _ Uuughh _ , says the thirsty little lizard hindbrain that is Matt’s traitorous mind.  _ Hhhrrrngh _ , it says, checking out the unbuttoned top two buttons on the henley that peeks out over Anders’s black apron.

Torey coughs politely and Matt tears his eyes away from the scene behind him to realize he’s been slicing the same cake for the past few minutes, so it really doesn’t resemble a hexagon so much as some loose chunks. He flashes an apologetic grimace at Torey who laughs and gives him a thumbs up. Alright, it’s fine, they have enough time to get some more usable footage. Matt would feel so guilty if the camera crew had to stay after because he decided it was time to pine over his co-worker in the middle of a project. His very stacked, very funny, very perfect co-worker he had been harboring a crush on for months now. Matt gets back to thinking about the frosting he needs to make.

This day really is shaping up to be one of the longest ever, in Matt’s professional opinion as a pastry chef.Technically, the cakes shouldn’t even be that hard but he can’t seem to get the shapes right. The problem with such a light and delicate sponge is that without the stabilizers the snack company puts in, they tend to tear or crumble when cut into shapes. Matt’s canvassed the kitchen for help, including a notable suggestion from Charlie, who told him to try baking in hexagonal molds, but they ended up with an uncharacteristic crust so Matt’s back to square one on this. Over the top of his camera, Torey is giving Matt a strange look that signals it might be time for a break and sure, Matt’s inclined to agree, but he’s so close. It’s a children’s snack cake, how can it possibly be giving him this much trouble? He looks up and tells the camera just as much with a grimace. 

“I swear, I don’t understand why this is giving me so much trouble,” Matt says to the viewers. They’ve all got to be sadists, right? Why else would they watch an innocent pastry chef struggle over some dollar store snacks? Ugh.

“I’m going to try and work on the frosting and maybe come back to the shaping later,” he decides, reaching for the powdered sugar under the counter behind him while trying to give the camera his most exasperated look.

“Wha-ho, hey watch out!” With a shout from someone else, Matt gets knocked into the solid kitchen counter while he’s staring into the camera. Rubbing at his lower back, which will inevitably bruise, Matt turns around to see Anders. The culprit in question is holding a large jar of reddish liquid with a valve on top and the glare slides off Matt’s face and his ears start to heat up a little. 

“Broski, oh my god, I am so sorry, yo.” Anders sets down his jar with a clink and lays his hands on Matt’s shoulders, earnestly staring into his eyes like he expects cartoonish swirls to start appearing in Matt’s vision. “You hurt at all? Would hate to see you hurt, and-” Matt can’t even focus on whatever apologies Anders is spewing with those hands gently moving across his back, like he’s checking for bruises through Matt’s t-shirt. They’re nice hands, for sure, Matt will admit to himself, square and broad with little scars from less-than-ideal knifework and calluses on the pads that he sometimes imagines might catch on his own if they held hands. Big “if”, though.

Jake laughs from behind his own camera next to Anders’s head and catches himself to ask “Sorry man, you okay?” 

“Zeebs, don’t laugh at Matt!” Anders sounds pretty indignant for the guy who slammed Matt into the counter in the first place.

“I’m not laughing at him, I’m laughing at you,  _ pigeon _ ,” Jake reshoulders his camera with a whiskery grin, as if to say, we’ve got a show to shoot here, guys, save the pining for later. Or maybe Matt’s projecting because Jake looks all too pleased to be capturing the way Anders is still rambling about oh man, he totally didn’t mean to run into Matt, but hey were those sponge cakes he loves sponge cakes- and a cough from Torey now definitely sounds like the camera crew might be getting fed up.

“Well okay!” Anders claps Matt on his left shoulder and grabs his bottle of red concoction and places a hand on the small of his back to scoot him out of the way, “Sorry about that, my b, let’s get back to this hot sauce, huh?” 

“Wait, hang on, wait-” Matt despairs at the thought of having to get back to these stupid snack cakes, “Do you think you could help me with these?” He holds up the tray of uncut sponge cake. Torey sighs, full well knowing that Matt is just trying to procrastinate but Anders just beams.

“So glad you decided to ask for help, broski. You’ve come to the right place.” At those words, Jake rolls his eyes and lets the both of them know he’ll come back in a few and walks away with his rig to let it charge. 

Under the scrutiny of Anders’s well-meaning gaze, Matt lays out the methods he’s tried so far and the problems with those. Even though Anders isn’t a pastry chef, he had brought plenty of creativity to the test kitchen staff since he joined them all a few months back. Initially, Matt was skeptical of his carefree attitude and stream-of-consciousness speech style, but after a few weeks, Matt had found himself scanning the kitchen for his silhouette in the mornings and missing Anders’s larger-than-life presence on days he was sick or out. 

“Okay, so, I think I got your problem here figured out.” Anders is telling Matt very seriously and something in Matt’s tired, burnt out, little heart jumps.

“You do?” 

“Yeah, for sure, so you gotta use like a straight blunt shape or something so it applies the pressure evenly. Like uhh, a uhh, yknow, a cookie cutter. You got those, right?”

Matt tries not to look crestfallen, not when Anders is turning that sunny, sweet smile on him so earnestly. Cookie cutters? For fuckin’ real? He’s not sure what advice he expected from someone with next to no baking experience. Either way, he’s not about to insult his favorite co-worker who just put aside his project to help him. Despite the frustrating process and oncoming promise of winter in the air, Matt feels warm in a way only Anders makes him. With a flip of his floppy, straw-colored hair, Anders grabs his bottle of hot sauce and makes Matt promise to save him a cake later. 

It works. It fucking works and Matt spends five or so minutes just staring at the perfectly hexagonal pieces of cake on the tray wondering if Anders is secretly a baking genius before looking at the camera and conceding that okay, maybe cookie cutters are the way to go with this one. The frosting goes uneventfully, a standard mix of powdered sugar, milk, and cornstarch and same goes for the marshmallow filling between the cakes. Matt tempers chocolate and drizzles it over the white hexagons, warning the viewers to let the cakes cool before this step. After breaking down the process verbally for Torey so they can use it in the final voiceover, Matt proudly turns his tray of identical, perfectly shaped Zebra cakes to the camera for the closing shot. 

“You did it, congrats man!” Torey offers him a high five as they go about winding up cables and putting back mixing bowls, respectively. 

“I know, and it really took longer than I thought,” Matt says, offering him one as various kitchen members swung by to ooh and aah at the cakes and sample them. Charlie swings by with a cheery smile to congratulate Matt and grab some cakes. For Jake, Charlie says, and Matt pretends he doesn’t see Charlie take three instead of two.

“Where is Jake, actually?” Matt asks him, and from the immediate shit-eating grin on Charlie’s face, Matt knows that he failed to keep the unspoken “and Anders” out of his question.

“They’re still finishing up that fermented hot sauce video, like I think I saw them by the fridge or something. Some of us were going to go out to dinner around 7-ish if you guys want to come.” Charlie adds, “Jake and Anders might wrap up later though.”

Matt smiles and tells him he’ll probably be there and Charlie goes to clean up his station for the end of the day and prepare some mise-en-place for the next day. Matt grabs the last few cakes and puts them on a plate by the stove range for when Anders finishes his shoot. They’re unassuming and not too flashy, but look just like the ones he got in his lunchbox as a kid. Matt doesn’t have to fake his pride in his work, not even a little, and he warms even more thinking back on running into Anders today. People were difficult, it wasn’t like baking where you could follow a recipe and understand what happened, but it was easy being around Anders. There was something sweet and uncomplicated in his nature that Matt had grown to love over weeks and months of post-workday dinners and hectic shoots with the rest of the test kitchen staff. If people were baked goods, Anders would never be a careful, delicate petit fours found in a patisserie window, but he was a warm chocolate cookie on a rainy day, and Matt thinks that was just fine by him.

He finishes wiping down his station half an hour later and looks over at the stove range just in case Anders had popped by and he’d missed it, but the cakes still sit there on their plate, not a single crumb disturbed. People are starting to pack up or pull on light coats and scarves. Torey waves to him and tells him people are thinking about going to that place by the park, you know the one with the seasonal menu and is he going to be much longer? Matt shrugs and resists the urge to scan the kitchen for a broad, familiar frame, telling Torey he’ll text him about it. 

The kitchen gets emptier and emptier and Matt’s station gets cleaner and more organized, not that it wasn’t before. Finally, after Matt’s finished arranging the flours in gluten content order, Anders and Jake turn the corner in a fit of laughter and something about peppers. Jake goes about wrapping up his camera equipment with a speed that suggests Charlie might have already texted him about dinner plans while Anders ambles over to his station. Oh god, it’s covered in unwashed tools and Matt resigns himself to a late dinner. Anders is just placing his bowls and supplies to soak in the sink when he catches Matt’s eye and waves. Matt meanders over like he hasn’t been waiting for the past hour.

“You need help cleaning up?”

“Ugh, yeah bruh, please and thank you” Anders does an exaggerated groan and pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead as Matt grabs a plate.

They get the pile of equipment into the dishwasher and the counter wiped in record time, not that anyone’s around to witness it, since it’s pretty much just them in the empty kitchen at that point. Anders finishes drying off his hands and makes a beeline for the cakes Matt had set aside. Matt takes one when Anders slides the plate to him, despite the fact that he doesn’t usually eat his own baking.

After the third or so bite of fluffy cake chewed in companionable silence, Anders clears his throat, snapping Matt out of his thoughts about hexagons and drizzles and baking times.

“So, uh hey, broski you know I could eat these all evening, but do you think maybe you’d want to grab dinner?” Anders looks strangely nervous, more nervous than Matt has seen him in a while, though that time with the sourdough is a close second.

“Sure, let me grab my stuff. You can go ahead, I think the camera guys already left for the sushi place.” Matt scrabbles around for his keys, and realizes he probably left them in his backpack.

“No uh, I was actually thinking,” Anders trails off as Matt looks up from his pockets. Anders is staring studiously at his fermenting jars of kombucha on the counter behind Matt’s shoulder. It’s the fifth time since they started talking that Anders has looked over there, and Matt only knows this because he’s been tracking Anders’s eyes the whole time. Well, since day one of knowing him, if he’s going to be honest.

“Yeah so, I was actually thinking just the two of us have dinner, actually. I mean, if you want!” it comes out in a rush and Anders snaps his eyes away from the kombucha to Matt’s face, tracking his gaze over Matt’s entire face as if the secret to a perfect kombucha has been written there somehow.

“Wait,” Matt has had a long long day, and the last thing he wants to do now is to misread this situation AKA a potential dinner date with the guy he’s been pining over for months. “You’re asking me to go to dinner, with you, alone?” he quirks an eyebrow. Anders flashes a grin at him that is tentative and shameless all at once.

“Yep.” He pops the “p.” 

Suddenly Matt feels less tired than he has all day and the hazelnut chocolate babka he was supposed to be making for the January issue and all the deadlines and recipes seem very far away and he hears himself say,

“Yeah Anders, I’d love that.”


End file.
